


For I Have Sinned

by Mrs_SimonTam_PHD



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Catholicism, Cop AU, Dean/Jo relationship, Detective!Lucifer, Forever Knight!AU, Historical Fiction Kind Of, Joan of Arc - Freeform, M/M, Medical Examiner!Sam, Prior Lucifer/Amara, Religious Delusions, Season 1 Episode 3, Serial Killers, Vampire AU, Vampire!Lucifer, Vampire/Human relations, detective!dean, faith - Freeform, mild infidelity, not really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 07:38:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 16,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16342565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD/pseuds/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD
Summary: Luke Knight, or Sir Lucifer de Brabant, is an 800 year old vampire who wishes to regain his mortality with the help of his boyfriend, Dr. Sam Winchester- the only mortal alive who knows who or what Luke is. While working on as a detective in 1990’s Toronto, on a case featuring a man suffering from a religious delusion and is murdering women of a local Catholic church with his partner, Dean Smith, Luke must face the Christian faith as the next hurdle in his quest to become human again. With all the discussions of faith, he remembers a particular countryman whom is now one of the most revered saints in Catholicism.Based on the TV Show “Forever Knight” and its third episode of the same name





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> HERE IS MY SAMIFER BIG BANG FOR 2018!!!
> 
> Much love to my artist, @talkmagically
> 
> Much love to my betas, @madamelibrarian and @spnyoucantkeepmedown

**_Prologue_ **

_ He was brought across in 1228. Preyed on humans for their blood. Now he wants to be mortal again, to repay society for his sins. To emerge from his world of darkness. From his endless, forever night.  _

 

**Chapter 1:**

The woman laughed as she sat up. Her lover rolled over to his side and smiled up at her. “C’mon, stay a little longer,” he begged with a smile. 

“You know I have to get home,” she chuckled, pulling a silver chain with an ornate cross onto her neck, securing the clasp. “And besides,  _ you _ have work to do.” 

“Nothing ever happens on night shift,” he said in a placating tone. “Besides, don’t you think we should christen  _ all  _ of the mattresses before they sell?” 

“John, you’re not going to convince me otherwise,” she said, getting dressed. 

The man- John- sighed, then reluctantly rolled over to get dressed. 

Once they were dressed, John saw his lover out the door. 

“Get home safe,” he told her solemnly. 

“I will,” she promised, leaning in to kiss him.

They shared a lazy kiss before she walked out of the store, in the direction of her car. John watched her leave making sure she got to her car safely and locked the door. 

The woman finished her walk out to her car, which was unlocked. There was no one at the mattress store this late at night, and it was in a safe neighborhood. Stupid, maybe, but this area of Toronto was safe. She slid inside her car and dug around her purse for something. Finding it, she slid it on her finger. It was a gold ring with a diamond in the center, flashing in the orange tinted lights of the street lamps. 

Inside the mattress store, John drained the last of his coffee and dumped the cup into the trashcan near the front of the store before heading back to look at the security cameras, gearing up for another boring night on his shift. 

In the rearview mirror, a man clad in black popped up. The only thing visible was his eyes, cold and the color of streetlights. He yanked the woman by her hair and she let out a scream. He wrapped a black leather gloved hand around her mouth and yanked the cross from her neck, holding it up for her to see. 

“You don’t deserve to wear this,” he snarled. There was fear in her eyes, and he liked that. He was going to like what he was going to do her even more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Luke are called to a crime scene, but not without Dean entering the Raven

A fellow vampire snarled at him and Luke Knight, also known as Lucifer de Brabant and a variety of other monikers grimaced. “A bit of advice,” he said. “Immortality is not an excuse not to floss.” 

The vampire sneered and flitted away, giving him access to Amara, known as Mara in this lifetime. Making his way through The Raven, he walked up to her. She laughed as she saw him and brought her hands down from her dancing partner. “ _ Bonsoir, _ Lucifer,” Amara greeted him. 

They kissed, the kiss of old lovers rejoined but without the kindle of passion. Just a warm kiss between the two of them. She turned and began dancing against him.

“Ruby looks like Death warmed over,” Luke observed, watching another member of their coven. 

“Well, you know Ruby,” Amara sighed. “Binging one minute, purging the next. I think she still has remnants of a conscience.” She brought her hand up to fist it into Luke’s blond hair. “No self respect.” 

Luke chuckled to himself. “I’m here on business, two women have been murdered this week. One decapitated, one disemboweled.” 

Amara sighed. Finishing up her dance, she walked over to a small table out of the way, where a seemingly innocent glass of red wine sat. They both knew better. “And so you came to me?” 

Luke shrugged, licking his lips. 

“Oh Lucifer,” she sighed, flicking her cigarette away. “You used to be  _ so  _ charming. You know I don’t care about what happens to mortals. And  _ you _ shouldn’t either.” 

“Some of us change,” Luke replied calmly. It was an old argument between the two of them. They always had it, ever since Luke had made the decision to become mortal again. 

“Aaahh, but you’re not a person, and you haven’t been for quite some time,” Amara shot back not unkindly. “And you’re never going to learn that are you?” 

She dipped her index finger into her glass and Luke inhaled. 

“ _ Just,  _ taste it,” she coaxed, offering it to Luke. 

Luke scowled at it. 

“You can’t deny what you are, you  _ need  _ it,” Amara urged, close to resting the finger onto his lip. 

Luke caught her wrist and shoved it off to the side with a hard look.  

They were interrupted by hearing Dean Smith, Luke’s partner, shouting “KNIGHT!” over the loud techno music, obviously looking for him. Luke turned to Amara and rolled his eyes with an amused smile. He also internally groaned.  _ Dean was to stay outside the Raven for a reason. Dammit, Dean! _

 

Dean found himself inside The Raven, shouting for Luke. The place couldn’t be as bad as Luke described it. And it wasn’t! Sure, the music wasn’t anything like he knew, and the crowd was all young, hip, and wearing the same kind of dark, leather type clothing Luke favored. 

A beautiful woman, however, dressed in pure white like she was a bride, was looking over in his direction, smoking a long cigarette. There was a black leather jacket over her shoulders, with blonde hair up in the styles of the 80’s. 

 

Luke looked down at Amara’s wrist, biting it playfully before starting to move away to collect his partner. Dean wasn’t stupid, not by any means, but he  _ was  _ oblivious, and a walking meal ticket. He started to walk away while Amara watched with an amused smile, before turning around. “If you hear anything-” 

Amara wagged her wine and blood coated index finger at him, urging him to go. 

“ _ Bon appetit, _ ” he replied before slinking out of the chains hiding them. 

 

The woman eyeing Dean walked over to him, giving the once over. 

“H-hi,” Dean stammered, waving at her. Why was he stumbling over his words? What happened to the suave Dean Smith that got married to Jo? Was it BECAUSE he was married? A man came by and wrapped a possessive arm around her waist, leading her away and Dean watched her go.

“I  _ thought  _ I told you to wait outside,” Luke hissed in his ear, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. Luke had a tendency to do that. 

“And let  _ you  _ have all the fun? I mean, I now know why you like this place so much!” Dean said, letting Luke drag him out of there. “You just want to have all those beautiful men and women in there to yourself!” 

“It’s  _ dangerous  _ in there, Dean,” Luke grumped. Dean was a walking meal ticket in there, why couldn’t Dean see that? 

Oh wait, Dean didn’t know he was a vampire. Right. He briefly forgot. 

Dean laughed warmly. “I eat danger for breakfast,” he told Luke. “There’s some  _ awesome  _ action in there.” 

“Dean, you’re  _ married _ ,” Luke pointed out. 

“It’s a family trait!” Dean protested. “My father fooled around, his father fooled around, and so on.” 

Luke inhaled and shake his head. “Yeah, but I don’t think you have the guts to do it,” he smiled. He honestly didn’t. Joanna Smith, AKA Jo, his wife, had him by the balls. And both of them knew it. 

“Oh yeah? Is that what you think?” Dean challenged as the walked over to the car. 

“That is  _ exactly  _ what I think,” Luke grinned. 

“I’m telling you, it’s in the genes!” Dean insisted. 

“HA!” Luke howled into the night  as he opened up the driver’s side door, watching Dean walk around to the passenger side. 

Settling in, they heard the call come over the radio. “81-Kilo, 81-Kilo, where the HELL are you guys?” 

“What’s this?” Luke frowned. 

“This is why I came in to get you,” Dean admitted. “They found another body.” 

“How bad?” Luke asked as he buckled his seatbelt and started the car.

“It’s fugly, man,” Dean admitted. 

“This is 81-Kilo, we’re on our way,” Luke said in the radio before starting to drive out. 

“What, you’re saying you wouldn’t cheat on Dr. Winchester?” Dean asked, returning to their conversation. 

“Cheat on  _ Sam _ ?” Luke was horrified. Even when Julian brought him over and was encouraged to take female lovers to feed on, he didn’t dare cheat on Amara. Even though it was encouraged back in the day. He slept around as a man of the Crusades, but he was  _ single. _ Very, very single. And now- “Cheat on the  _ medical examiner? _ Are you kidding me?” 

“Yeah, you’re right,” Dean sighed with a chuckle. “That’d be a bad idea.” 

“Besides, Sam and I are just dating,” Luke said. “Even if we weren’t exclusive I’d probably still stick with just him. Too many partners and. . .” he shuddered. It was a damn good thing that vampires couldn’t get venereal diseases. “Anyways, I love Sam. And Sam loves me.” 

Dean snorted and began pulling his pack of cigarettes out. 

“Smoke in my Caddy and you will regret it,” Luke snapped. 

Dean sighed. At least between Luke, Dr. Winchester and Jo, he’ll always be reminded to quit smoking. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke and Dean are at the crime scene. It doesn't work well for Luke

Luke pulled up to the crime scene twenty minutes later, stepping out of his seafoam green 1964 Cadillac convertible, walking around to where the victim was, still in the position she had been found in. The CSI team swarmed around her, getting pictures and generally bagging up any evidence. She was positioned in front of her car, spread out, spikes in each palm of her hand and her feet like a grotesque reenactment of the crucifixion. Luke wouldn’t have been surprised if there was a fifth wound under her rib cage. 

“What the  _ fuck  _ is this?” Dean asked in horror. 

“It’s a crucifixion,” Luke replied in a monotone. The sight of the woman in the holy symbol made the vampire within him rear its loathsome head, and he was surprised that he didn’t burst into flames on the spot. “Get her covered up and get her out of here!” he barked, turning his head away.

“Easy, Luke,” Dean soothed, guiding him away. “You heard the man!” he told the crew. “Get her off to Dr. Winchester, fast!” He walked over to where Luke was inhaling deeply. “You alright, man?” 

Luke walked further away, keeping his eyes averted. He didn’t need his fangs to sprout or for his eyes to become vampiric.  _ Conceal, conceal, conceal. _

“I have to admit, that’s a first for me too,” Dean admitted. 

Luke’s sure of that being Dean’s first crucifixion. He’s seen live crucifixions back during the Crusades, but he was human then. He’s a vampire now. It was the one of the many prices of immortality. What was once his comfort, his banner, his shield, has now become the very thing he is afraid of. He nodded at the man sitting on the curb. “Who’s he?” 

“John something.” 

They observed him for a while before Dean spoke again. 

“That is the face of a guilty man,” he noted. 

“Yes, but he’s not guilty about killing her,” Luke said. “They were probably having an affair.” 

“He and the victim?” Dean asked in shock. “They said she was married, I mean. . . how can you tell?” 

Luke smirked. “Oh, come on, Dean, I thought you were a man of the world,” he mocked. 

“Bite me,” Dean snarked. 

_ Tempting some days,  _ Luke thought to himself. 

They walked over to John, who was leaning dejectedly against a squad car, looking as if he was about to be sick. “Take him in,” Luke said to two uniformed officers. “Maybe he knows something.” 

They watched the body be carried off on the stretcher. “They say that death by crucifixion can take hours. Days, even,” Dean said. 

Luke nodded. He’s witnessed that first hand. He looked back at the chalk outline of her body and frowned. “She was dead before she was spiked,” he said. 

“What makes you think that?” Dean asked. 

Luke crouched down, near where the chalk outline of the body was. There was only spots of blood where the spikes were, not nearly enough was lost to kill her by exsanguination. Once, he longed for the stigmata. Now, the very sight of them on the ground and on the victim made him sick. “There’s not enough blood.” He used a hand to steady himself, feeling dizzy. He had forsaken his breakfast of the cow blood before his shift and now he was regretting that decision.  _ Dammit, Sam. _

“Hey man, you okay?” Dean asked. 

Luke looked up at his partner and nodded. “I’m fine.” A blatant lie, but Dean wouldn’t know the difference. “This is the third body this week,” he admitted. “Have we ID’d the victim?” 

“Katherine Milligan, age 35,” one of the officers said. 

Luke nodded, committing the name to memory.

This was the third kill. They were dealing with the likes of a serial killer, and a serial killer in Toronto never lasted very long, not with Luke around. 

The M.O’s were all different. Decapitation, disembowelment, crucifixion. That counted for something. 

He hoped Dr. Winchester would manage to get something out of the their deaths that linked them. Finding that link would be key. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke and Sam go over the autopsy; a clue is given

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT 11/2/2018: I have put @talkmagically's artwork for this chapter at the end of the chapter!

“You were right,” Dr. Sam Winchester said, observing the victim’s hand where one of the spikes had been. “She had died before she was spiked. She had a coronary. She died from sheer, unmitigated terror.”

“Sam,” Luke spoke, keeping his eyes away from the stigmata. “Do you mind?”

Sam blinked, hazel eyes confused, before understanding dawned on him. “Right, sorry,” he apologized. He tucked the hand under the sheet before walking around to take Luke’s hand. “How’re you holding up?”

“Fine,” Luke ground out.

Sam raised a brow. “Hey, I want you to take a look at this,” he said. He walked over to where a silver ornate cross hung on a simple silver chain. Cupping the cross in his other hand, he brought it over to show Luke.

Luke hissed and felt his fangs elongate ever so slightly.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Sam asked with a smile. He had a thing for beautiful religious adornments, something that as a student of archeology, Luke loved but right now, Christian objects weren’t something he could handle.

Luke gently, yet firmly, grasped Sam’s hands and shoved them over. “Sure, depending upon your point of view,” he said, backing away from it.

“You’re afraid of this?” Sam asked.

Luke nodded. “We can go on holy ground, but we cannot look at crucifixes or crosses,” he said. “Besides, it reminds me of the Crusades.”

Sam nodded. “Well, this might be what we tackle next,” he said, walking away.

Luke frowned. “I’d just as sooner take all those garlic pills you want to shove down my throat,” he said.

Sam laughed. “Well, it’s what we’re tackling next,” he said.

Luke crossed over and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, resting his chin on Sam’s shoulder, averting his gaze from the cross. “What, you want me to start wearing it to bed?” he asked. “I’d rather wear nothing to bed.”   
Sam snorted. Typical Luke. “No, but you _will_ need it for evidence,” he admitted, hunting for an evidence bag.

“Why?” Luke asked.

“I screwed up,” Sam confessed, opening a new evidence bag and sliding the cross into it. “It didn’t register when I saw them on the other two victims.”

Luke raised a brow. This could be the lead they were looking for. “The other two women wore crosses?”

Sam nodded, handing Luke the evidence bag, careful to make sure that he didn’t have contact with the cross itself. “I checked. They were all Catholic.”

Luke nodded, taking the evidence bag and slipping it into his pocket without looking at the cross. He could feel it, and oh, how he hated it. “I was once Catholic,” he admitted.

“You’re a Frenchman from the Middle Ages, I’m not surprised,” Sam said. “Did you lose faith?”

Luke nodded. “I was nearly killed, and became afraid of death. That’s how Amara found me, why it was so easy for Julian to bring me over.” He blocked the last time he saw Julian alive out of his mind, the image of his vampiric father burning in his apartment vivid for an instant. “I wanted to be able to fight and know I was going to be alive.”

Sam cupped Luke’s face and brought it towards him. “That’s understandable,” he said softly. “But this is something you’re going to have to tackle.”

“I know,” Luke sighed, leaning into his boyfriend’s touch. The warmth of the human touch flooded his somewhat cold skin and he smiled softly.

“You’re going to be fine, Luke. I know you will be,” Sam assured him.  

“I can barely look at a cross, Sam,” Luke pointed out. “The sight of the crime scene made me nauseated. Hell, even Dean noticed, although I think he thought it was just a first for the ‘young’ detective.” He put air quotes around “young”, as he was several _centuries_ older than Dean. Or Sam.

Sam chuckled, rolling his eyes and smiled. “You’re going to be fine, I promise,” he repeated. “Just remember to take your garlic pills and I’m here. Like I’ve always been.”

Luke smiled. “Thanks, Sam.”

“Of course. Now get home before the sun comes up.” Sam brought Luke closer and kissed him softly. Luke kissed him back, his eyes closing. The vampire in him growled, pleased from the contact. He felt Sam shiver from the vibrato of it and he smirked.

Sam broke the kiss, placing a more chaste one on his lips. “Go,” he whispered. “I have reports to finish.”

Luke sighed, the vampire purring. “Alright, Sam,” he said. The fangs retracted, the eyes returned to human. He inhaled, hearing Sam’s steady heartbeat, soothing and tempting all at the same time. He could feel sunrise coming. “Will you come see me after?” he asked.

“You just get some sleep,” Sam said, patting Luke’s rear with the clipboard he just picked up. “And take a garlic pill. We’ll see. I’ve got a feeling I’m going to have a full bed and breakfast.”

Luke rolled his eyes affectionately and kissed Sam’s cheek before heading out.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Father Michael Milton hears a startling confession

Father Michael Milton of St. John’s Church yawned quietly as he read the paper inside the tiny confessional. He had been up early, and there weren’t very many parishioners coming in for confession today. It was still early, however. 

He heard the confessional door open, then close, someone sitting down. He could see that through the grating. He set the paper aside and cleared his throat. “You may confess and in so doing cleanse your soul and bring yourself closer to Our Lord, Jesus Christ,” he intoned, crossing himself. 

“I have nothing to confess,” the voice on the other side purred. Male, the young priest thought. 

“There must be some reason why you’re here,” Michael said kindly. “You’re here because you’ve sinned and you want to-” 

“I haven’t sinned,” the man interrupted. He sounded eerily calm. “I’m doing God’s work. I’m cleansing his church, purging it.” 

_ Shy, _ Father Michael thought. “We should all endeavour to be diligent in our work,” he said. 

“Three sinners already burn in Hell, for I hold the keys of Perdition and of Death.” 

Father Michael frowned.  _ Three. . .  _ he looked over at the paper sitting next to him. 

**_THIRD WOMAN BRUTALLY MURDERED_ ** blared the headline. It clicked into place for Father Michael. 

The man on the other side had confessed to murder, essentially. Ice filled his veins. And not just one person- “God does not want us to kill sinners for Him,” he said. “He wants sinners to repent. This is weighing heavily on your conscience-” 

“Conscience is the sinner’s word.” The man sounded scornful. “You say that their conscience hurts, they confess, you absolve them of their sins, and they walk away to commit the same sin again.” 

“It’s not that simple,” Father Michael insisted. “They must  _ want  _ to confess. You  _ need  _ to confess. Something within you is  _ crying  _ for you to confess, to seek help.” 

“The next sinner to die defiles this cathedral with her very presence,” the man continued, as if he wasn’t listening to the priest. “She  _ feeds  _ off the fire of the lusts of men, and so she will be consumed by fire!” 

“Please, you want to confess, you came here to  _ confess _ ,” Michael implored. “Please, you need  _ help. _ ”  

“I don’t need help. I am the Arm of God and I am His Fury.” 

Father Michael was about ready to read this man the riot act when he heard the confessional open and footsteps. Knowing he was about to break the sacred seal of the confessional, he stood up and went to go find the man. 

He had disappeared, leaving no sign of who he was. 

There was now a woman in danger, confessed to him that she was in danger. Wasn’t there something he could do about this? 

This wasn’t for a new priest such as him. He was going to have to ask Father Charles. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke, regrettably, takes a garlic pill and reminisces about when he was a young vampire, of an extraordinary woman with faith.

Luke eyed the garlic pill in front of him with suspicion. Is it entirely possible that this would help? Perhaps. Did he really want to put what he equated poison to in his body? Not particularly. 

He inhaled, then exhaled, upper lip curling ever so slightly as he glared at the pill, as if he could Care Bear Stare it into submission. 

“If I die, it’s Sam’s fault,” he announced to his empty apartment. 

No one answered him. Except the inner voice that sounded strangely like Sam.  _ Take the fucking pill, Lucifer. _

So he took the garlic pill. 

Immediately, it felt like he was being spun around. Maybe flying through the air via a catapult. He’s not sure. The world was spinning. He was trying not to scream. He shuddered. The phone was ringing. He couldn’t answer it if he tried. His body was screaming for him to do something, but he couldn’t. 

_ Yeah, Luke Knight. I’m either in bed or incommunicado. Leave a message.  _

The  _ beep _ of his answering machine was louder than Luke ever remembered it being. 

“Hey, Luke. Guess what, for once you were right,” Dean’s voice sounded like he was under water and high on helium to Luke’s spinning brain. “All the women were Catholic and what do you know? They all went to the same church, St. John’s. Listen, don’t call me. It’s my night off and I got plans with Jo.  _ Hasta la bye-bye! _ ” 

The spinning stopped and Luke collapsed gratefully onto his dark leather couch, closing his eyes briefly to relax. 

When he opened them again, his gaze fell onto the evidence bag containing the cross once worn by Katherine Milligan. Easing himself up off the couch, he walked over and sat down next to his coffee table. He might faint. Do vampires faint? He didn’t know. But if he fell, he wanted less time to fall. And less of a ways to go. 

Gently, he began prying the chain containing the cross out of the bag, his breath quickening. He- 

_ A chapel, in France. The year was 1429. A young woman was in front of the large cross. He purred, chest rumbling at the sight of her. He had the urge to protect this poor girl. She couldn’t have been more than seventeen.  _

_ “You’ve been following me,” she spoke. Strong, confident. Assertive. Accusatory.  _

_ He appeared out of the shadows and stood in front of her. Dark brown hair, vivid bright brown eyes. He purred, pleased at the sight. “Yes, well, I couldn’t help myself,” he admitted sheepishly. He was still relatively young by vampiric standards- only 201. She spoke and carried herself with the same fire that he had in his youth.  _

_ “I could feel someone, some _ thing, _ ” she said.  _

_ Lucifer hummed in thought. “Were you afraid?” he asked curiously. Almost hopefully. Fear added to the taste. To the excitement. He looked around in the chapel. She had stopped here for a reason. “Is that why you stopped here to hide?” he asked.  _

_ “I stopped here so I could pray for a safe journey. I’m to meet with the Dauphin,” she explained bravely. She started to walk away, but Lucifer caught her arm and brought her in close. He could hear her heart.  _

_ “Tis a pity,” he murmured. “I don’t think you’ll ever arrive there.”  _

_ “I have no fear of you,” she murmured, looking down and away. So she was afraid.  _

_ Lucifer grinned, fangs glistening in the candlelight.  _ “ _ You should.” _

_ “Non,” she replied simply. “My grandmere used to tell me about the handsome creatures cursed to spend eternity in darkness. You are Sir Lucifer de Brabant, the Man Who Walks the Night.”  _

_ He cupped her cheek. Harder than he expected, but she barely flinched, just looked into his eyes. This waif of a child had such strength. Her heartbeat was strong, steady. She truly was unafraid of him. “You think I’m cursed? I who will live forever?” He asked quietly.  _

_ “Oh yes, very, because you are afraid of salvation,” she explained softly. “You who choose to live forever live in constant fear of death.” She shook her head. “I do not. I will pray for you, Lucifer. I will pray for us both.” She began to walk away.  _

_ “Courage,” he applauded. Courage was just as beautiful as fear, in his opinion. She turned back to look at him. “What is your name?”  _

_ “Jeanne,” She replied. She turned around and finished her walk away.  _

_ He turned, looked up at the cross. He knew how dangerous it was to fight for the Church. He, who managed to survive the Crusades if only barely, just two hundred years ago. The battle for the Church wasn’t a place for a woman like Jeanne.  _

_ But her faith, her courage, also told him it’s exactly where she belonged.  He approached the cross, its form flickering in and out of darkness by the light of the candles. Perhaps the legends weren’t true- _

Luke carefully lowered the cross into his palm, his mind flashing back to reaching out for the cross in that tiny French chapel six hundred or so years ago. His hands shook, just like they did back then. 

The cross hit his palm and he curled his fingers around it, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt it burn. There was no fire, not like there was in 1429, and he didn’t scream. 

When he opened his palm a few moments later, breathing heavily, he carefully lifted the chain off of his skin and pried the cross away. 

There was now a cross burned into his flesh. Second degree, roughly, he figured. It hurt, but it’d heal in a few hours. 

“Well,” he said to himself out loud. “The garlic pills are  _ definitely  _ making an improvement.” 

Elated by the discovery, Luke reached over to his phone and dialed his boyfriend at the morgue. 

“Dr. Winchester,” Sam greeted. 

“Hey, Sam,” Luke sighed with a smile. “So I held it.” 

“And?” Sam sounded excited. 

“Well, I’ve burned my hand, but it’s not as bad as it could have been,” he admitted. “I took a garlic pill beforehand. Nearly threw up.” 

Sam chuckled, but Luke could tell his boyfriend was proud. “Well, we’re getting there,” he said. “Think you could do the sunbed tonight?” 

Luke shook his head. “The garlic pill and the cross were enough for tonight,” he said. “Dean called about the women. They all attended the same church. I’m going to swing by and see if I can talk to a priest tomorrow night.” 

“Good idea,” Sam agreed. 

“How late are you staying at the morgue tonight?” 

“Uhhh-shit!” There was a clattering of clipboards and Luke had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. Sam was strong, smart, intelligent, and everything Luke could ask for in a lover, but he was also a klutz. “I’m staying until about 2 AM unless another body lands on the table.” 

Luke checked the clock. It was 11:30 PM. “Come over?” he asked. 

“Of course,” Sam smiled. “I’ll let you know if plans change.” 

Smiling, Luke nodded. “Okay. I’ll see you at about 2:30, hopefully,” he said. 

Sam laughed and hung up. 

Luke put the phone back onto the receiver. He climbed back onto his couch and closed his eyes. Sam knew how to let himself in if he overslept. 

He deserved a nap.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Father Michael talks to Father Charles

Father Charles looked over where the large wooden cross was being constructed. “Make sure that you don’t mess up those nails, I want to save as many for next year’s Easter pageant,” he called over. “Those nails nearly cost a dollar each!” He looked back at Father Michael. “Now, you were asking about confession?” 

“Yes,” Father Michael said. The confession of the murder- the  _ three  _ murders- was definitely weighing heavily on his mind. He had read through his religious texts, and prayed for guidance, but nothing was letting him know whether or not he could go to the police with the confession. He wasn’t even sure  _ who  _ was the confessor. He followed Father Charles as he walked over to where the congregation would sit. “Say that you hear a confession where someone was planning to. . . let’s say, rob a bank. Actually, let’s be more melodramatic. That a man confessed that he was going to murder his wife. Can you go to the police?”

Father Charles looked at Father Michael with an arched brow. “You know the answer to that, Michael.” 

“But this is a confession of a crime,” Father Michael said. “And it could save someone’s  _ life. _ ” 

“The vow of the confessional is absolutely sacred, you can’t reveal the confessioner,” Father Charles insisted. “Otherwise there’d be a lot of people going to jail, or divorcing. The sacredness of confession and anonymity is needed.” 

“But this is  _ murder, _ ” Father Michael insisted. “This isn’t adultery or shoplifting.”

“Still can’t do anything,” Father Charles said. He turned to look at another parishioner. “Jesse, please take these chairs and fill out that row.” He gestured to where he was pointing to and Jesse went to do so. Father Charles went to go do something else but Father Michael caught his arm. 

“So a priest can do nothing to stop sin,” Father Michael said slowly. 

Father Charles inhaled, then exhaled. “Nothing that could identify the sinner,” he explained softly. He looked over to where Jesse was. “Um, Jesse, that’s wrong,” he said, hurrying over to the young congregant, leaving Father Michael to muse. 

_ Nothing that would identify the sinner. _

He had a feeling of who the killer’s next target was. If he could warn her, maybe he could spare her life without violating the vow of confession. 

He understood this tenent of the faith, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t loophole his way out of it.  


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean returns to the Raven, stupidly; Luke meets with Father Michael

Of course Dean went back to The Raven. Luke had a corner in a place of decadence and sin and didn’t share with him? Luke knows all the best burger places in Toronto because of him, why didn’t Luke tell him what The Raven was? For shame! 

Well, Luke was most likely at Dr. Winchester’s office (probably doing something gross where dead bodies once laid- the horror!) and wasn’t there to stop Dean. Besides, he also promised to go to St. John’s and talk to a priest about the victims. And he told Luke that he had the night off and was sleeping, and therefore not to bug him. So Dean entered. He knew Jo wouldn’t be the happiest when she found out, but that’s IF she found out. Dean Smith was an expert about keeping secrets. He’s managed to hide that everyone’s favorite detective and the medical examiner were banging. Hiding that he went lusting after a pretty blonde at a nightclub? Piece of pie.

He slid into the nightclub and started hunting for girl in the white dress. He didn’t know her name. That was fine. And besides, he did have a thing for blondes- Jo was a clear indication of that. For a moment, he had a twinge of guilt for Jo. Oh, if she ever found out, forget divorce. She’d be on trial for murder. Shaking her out of his mind, he began the hunt. Maybe he should make his way to the bar and get a drink.

“Hi,” the blonde purred, having seemingly materialized out of thin air like a fever dream. 

“Hi,” Dean said, throwing on a patented Smith Cocky Smile. 

“Wanna dance?” she cooed. 

“Sure!” Dean said, maybe too enthusiastically. She didn’t seem to mind, just pulled him onto the dance floor. Dean was about to take her hands but she turned around and pressed herself into him, moving her hips in ways he’s only ever dreamed of Jo doing. The way girls at strip clubs do.  _ Right against his crotch. _

Christ, he felt like such a  _ dad. _

“So. . .” He started to say, wanting conversation to distract himself. “What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” 

“It’s a life,” she said nonchalantly. 

The beat of the music was hard, thudding. It sounded like those big drums that were in the orchestras of the symphonies he had been dragged to by Jo and Luke. It was hot and sultry, seemingly to mimic Dean’s racing heart and his eyes followed the curves of his dance partner. She was clad in black today, but the dress hugged and clung to her every delicious curve. Her hair was up, falling in soft curls out of place. 

“Never thought I’d be dancing to something like this,” he tried again.  _ God  _ he was hard. And hot. He needed his jacket off. 

“And what else goes with dancing?” she asked with a playful smile thrown over her shoulder. 

“Ummmmm,” Dean said intelligently. “Dining?” 

There was a warm laugh before she spun around, eyes slitted and glowing. “I was thinking of something else.” 

Dean paused, staring into those eyes. “Oh.” He should be alarmed by those eyes. But he wasn’t.

“Take my hand,” she purred. 

“Sure,” Dean said, taking the offered lace gloved hand. 

She smirked. She may’ve growled and Dean Smith had never been more turned on. She led them towards the back of the club, unaware of the dark haired owner watching them. 

 

Luke scowled up at St. John’s Catholic Church and flipped it the finger before stalking across the grounds, seeing a dark figure. “Father!” 

The priest stopped and looked at Luke. Luke reigned in his inner vampire at the sight of the white Roman collar. Once upon a time, it filled him with love and devotion at the sight. Now, it made him feel angry and weak. “May I help you?” 

“Detective Luke Knight, Metro PD,” he introduced himself as he approached. “Homicide.” 

“Father Michael Milton,” the dark haired man introduced himself. Once the type of bedfellow Luke might’ve taken, back in the fifties or so. Even now. But he had Dr. Winchester now. “Would you like to head inside? It’s cold out.” 

Luke hadn’t noticed. “No, thank you. I’m just-” 

“Waiting for any old priest?” There was a smirk that devolved into a face of stoicness as he stopped striding across the lawn. “How can I help you?” 

Luke took out the pictures of the three victims. “Do you know these women?” 

Father Milton took a look at the three women and nodded. “I buried them all.” Bowing his head, he made the sign of the cross before handing the photos back to Luke. 

“Did you know them well?” Luke asked. 

“About as well as any priest knows his flock,” Father Milton said. “Listen, I should be going.” He began heading towards the church again. 

Luke followed. “Three women were murdered in your church, Father,” he reminded him. “One disemboweled, one decapitated-” 

“Yes!” Father Milton stopped and looked at Luke. Dark green eyes begged the detective vampire not to inquire further. He knew something. “And one crucified. I know. I’m sorry, I have nothing to aid you.” That was a lie, and Luke knew it. But he had to go about getting that information in a different way. 

Luke gently laid a hand on the priest’s shoulder. The uniform was seemingly okay to touch. “We have reason to believe that the killer might be a member of your church,” he said softly. 

Father Milton gave a long pause, as if debating with himself on how to answer. Luke waited, letting the silence save for the sounds of the city whiz past. Most people can’t stand long passages of silence. Most  _ humans  _ couldn’t, at least. A vampire’s world was never truly silent. 

“If he is a member of the church,” Father Milton said slowly, “perhaps he will confess.” 

Luke raised a brow. “I think he already has.” He patted Father Milton’s shoulder and withdrew his business card. “If there’s anything, let me know,” he said. 

Father Milton nodded, shaking Luke’s hand. “Peace be with you,” he said in favor of a goodbye. 

The words chilled Lucifer to the bone.  _ Peace  _ wasn’t for vampires; they were creatures of chaos. Still, he nodded. “And with you,” he said slowly. 

Father Milton smiled and left. Good thing too, because Luke had to turn around and snarl. He felt his eyes shift and fangs elongate. He inhaled deeply, then exhaled as he began walking as far away from the church as possible. 

He had a date with Dr. Winchester.

 

“I think in my next life,” the blonde was purring. They were now in a room with a couch and a coat stand, and she turned Dean and pushed his suit jacket off of him, “I’m going to be a dancing doctor. I just think doctors are too. . . formal, and stuffy. I want to be  _ fun. _ ” 

Dean was breathing heavily. His heart was pounding, his skin was soaked with sweat. He felt like he was sixteen and losing his virginity in the back of his father’s car. And it was  _ great.  _

She pushed Dean onto the couch and straddled his lap. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you,” she assured him as she slid his tie off his neck. “This is how I’m going to treat all of  _ my  _ patients. None of that impersonal nonsense.” 

He whined and tried to lean in for a kiss, but she stopped him, tying his wrists with the tie. He didn’t care. Jo did that a lot. “Take slow, deep breaths, love,” she soothed. “We don’t want your blood to boil.” 

That sounded very painful to Dean, so he slowed down his breathing a little bit, leaning into her touch. 

“That’s it,” she cooed. “Boiled blood spoils the taste.” 

Dean whimpered. 

She cradled his face in those perfect, lace gloved hands before she began to undo the top several buttons of Dean’s shirt. 

“I’m going to cure you, you macho Ken doll,” she cooed. “FOREVER.” She leaned in for a snarl and Dean bared his neck-

“LILITH!”

The blonde- Lilith? What kind of name was that?- turned to look at the raven haired owner and Dean started. He looked at Lilith up and down, no longer in a trance, and looked at himself. “W-where am I?” He shoved Lilith off of him and got up, trembling and began fixing himself. 

“Just get out of here,” Raven Lady- Dean couldn’t remember her name, if Luke ever mentioned her name- said. “Lilith isn’t a girl you want to play around with. The consequences could have proved. . . fatal.”

Dean blinked. He looked from Raven Lady to Lilith a couple of times. The most horrific scenario came to mind, and it wasn’t pregnancy. “You. . . you mean. . . . You mean I could’ve caught something like-” 

“Let’s just say,” Raven Lady interrupted him before he could vocalize the STD on his mind, the one that was all over the media and has been for a decade, the one he was afraid LUKE would catch, “that you would have become a permanent member of the night shift.” 

“Shit,” Dean swore and he began to rush out. Raven Lady grabbed his arm and held tight. Holy fuck she was  _ strong. _ He looked at her dark brown eyes and knew he was gonna do whatever she said.

“NEVER come back to this club, Mr. Smith!” She commanded him. “Believe  _ me. _ I’m doing you a favor.” 

Dean nodded his head rapidly and bolted out of The Raven. 

 

Amara sighed as she looked over at Lilith. Lilith purred with satisfaction and a hint of lust. Amara rolled her eyes affectionately. “No more of Lucifer’s friends,” she admonished. 

Lilith snorted. “Lucifer has no friends, save you. That was a bumbling idiot of a human. You should’ve let me.” 

“That bumbling idiot is his partner,” Amara said. “His work partner.” 

“I love how you clarify,” Lilith laughed. “It’s okay. I can get my fill somewhere else for the night.” 

“Stay away from the wine tonight,” Amara cautioned. “It’s AB negative.” 

Lilith hissed and nodded before sweeping out of the room. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meg Masters is the next victim. . . but the perpetrator isn't who anyone expected

The sounds of women talking on the phone and to each other overlap. Their voices are light, happy. Some are a little sexy, a little sultry, but nothing too overt. A woman’s voice cuts through the din. 

“What do I look like?” she giggled. “Well, I’m five-one. 33, 25, 34. . .” 

Her voice gets lost in the chaos of the sounds of women talking as the owner, Ruby, huffs into her phone. “Look, man, you’re not gonna get off on dead plastic,” she growled, slamming the phone down on the cradle before looking at one of her employees, Meg Masters. 

“So, I go to the store to get a refund,” Meg said, picking up from where she left off in her store. “And this is, obviously, after I wore it to the wedding. And the girl looks at me and goes, ‘has this been worn?’” The voice that Meg had chosen to affect was higher pitched and Ruby snorted. “I looked at her and said ‘listen, honey, I had to put it on in order to know it didn’t fit’.” 

“Did you get the refund?” Ruby asked, taking a sip of coffee. 

Meg nodded and chuckled, smiling as her phone rang. She picked it up and answered it. “Hello?” she asked in a sultry tone. 

“ _ May I speak to Meg?”  _ A man’s voice was on the other line. 

“Yes, this is her.” 

“ _ I hold the keys of perdition and of death. You profane the church with the fires of lust.”  _

Meg frowned. “Who is this?” 

“ _ I know who you are Meg, and all the dirty things you say. And so you shall be consumed by fire. _ ” 

Meg hung up and went to the cassette that recorded all of her calls. 

“Something wrong?” Ruby asked, looking up from where she was communing with her French fries. 

Meg rewound her tape a little bit and hit play for her boss. 

“ _ I know who you are, Meg, and all the dirty things you say. And so you shall be consumed by fire. _ ” It was scarier, hearing it a second time. 

Ruby held a little smirk on her face. “Didn’t know you went to church.” 

“Yeah, well I didn’t think it’d help with my resume,” Meg shot back. 

Ruby laughed. “Touche, Meg. Touche.” 

“Listen, I should go to the police, this freak knows who I am,” Meg said. It wasn’t obvious to many, but Meg was rattled. 

“Shake it off,” Ruby scoffed. “Freaks are our business. You remember that one you got who insisted you call him Daddy?” 

Meg chuckled. That was one of many weird calls Meg had received working for the company. But this seemed different. Personal. Hateful. 

“How much longer are you on for?” Ruby asked. 

“Uhhh-” Meg looked at her watch. “Half an hour.” 

“You’re no good to me like this,” Ruby said. “Beat it, alright? I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Meg smiled. “Thanks, Ruby,” she said. She popped open the cassette player and pulled out her tape just as Ruby’s phone rang. 

Ruby answered it. “Oh, he’s fussing? Aww. Oh, yeah, the bald spot. Okay, so you have to lay him on his tummy and sing a sweet lullaby to him-” She reached behind her to hug and kiss Meg’s cheek. “It’s the babysitter,” she whispered. “Yeah, just like that. . .”

 

Meg was on edge as she walked down the hallway towards the exit. If this person knew who she was and where she went to work, she was in more danger than she thought she’d ever be in, even with working at a phone sex company in Toronto. 

She approached the exit and looked down the stairs, as if expecting someone to pop out in front of her and try to kidnap her. 

Instead, someone grabbed her from behind, holding a gun to her head as she was dragged backwards, towards a different exit. 

She screamed, and flailed, trying to hit him but he was simply too strong. 

“HELP, SOMEBODY HELP!” 

 

Luke was out driving, driving to the morgue to keep his boyfriend company. It was familiar to him, the morgue. Not just because of the fact that he went there frequently for cases and because his boyfriend worked there, but there was something oddly soothing about being amongst the dead. Maybe it was his way of reminding himself what mortality was. Maybe it was just that way. Soothing, peacefulness of being amongst those no longer living. 

Well, that and the fact that about a year and a half ago, he was on Sam’s autopsy table after being hit with a small bomb and became the medical examiner’s patient in his quest for mortality. And then they fell into bed, violating several ethical practices. 

Something was wrong. There was a woman screaming, not far from where he was. Maybe two miles. It would be faster to fly there. 

He pulled his car into an alleyway and parked it, making sure that it was evident that it was a police vehicle. Sure that it wouldn’t be in a position to be hit (he still hasn’t forgiven Dean for wrecking his car- especially while he was in it!), and that there were no witnesses, he looked up and let his vampiric nature take over, following the screams of the woman and the growls of the man before landing on the roof. He found the door to drop down into the stairwell and opened it just as the two passed, the woman screaming her head off while he had her in his grasp, gun to her head. 

“No, please, no, just let me go,” she begged. 

“Quiet, slut, or I’ll send you to Hell myself,” the man said as Luke silently jumped down the stairs and withdrew his gun. 

“Metro Police, release the girl,” he commanded. 

The man, clad head to toe in black with a black baklava covering his face except his eyes, turned to look at the vampire. Recognition seemed to flash in his eyes. He shoved the woman at Luke. Luke caught her and pushed her to the side just as the man shot. He went straight into Luke’s stomach. He hissed. Being shot was always painful, even though it would be healed soon. Just because he was immortal doesn’t mean that he didn’t feel pain. The man took off running. 

Luke looked at the woman as he held where the bullet went through. “Call an ambulance!” he commanded. “Now!” 

The woman fled. 

Luke growled and gave chase to the man who was covered in black. 

The window behind him was shattered, but there was no blood. 

 

Luke didn’t have to chase the man far. He knew the back alleys of Toronto almost as well as the homeless, and the perpetrator was running right through one of the homeless camps. It was Luke’s best chance of getting the man. 

“STOP RIGHT THERE!” Luke shouted. 

Surprisingly, the man stopped. It looked like that he had hair now, which meant the baklava was gone. It’ll be easier for Luke to make an ID then. 

“Put your hands in the air, and turn around slowly,” Luke commanded, keeping his hand steady on his gun. 

“Don’t shoot!” the man shouted as he obeyed. 

Well, that was a bit odd for a serial killer to be shouting. “Walk this way slowly.” 

“Don’t shoot,” the man repeated. The glow of the barrel fires helped the man’s image become more clear, and Luke was able to make an ID. A surprising one at that. 

“Father Milton.” 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby and Luke interrogate Father Michael, but ultimately get nowhere.

Captain Robert “Bobby” Singer of Homicide has seen many young detectives in his storied career as captain of the Homicide Division of the Toronto Metro Police, and none had impressed him as much as Luke Knight did. 

However, tonight, Luke was acting like a fuckin’ idjit. 

“You  _ know  _ who the killer is, don’t you?” Luke near shouted at the priest that he had caught in connection to the Catholic Guilt Killer case- what the media was calling it, as  _ some idjit  _ leaked that the women were Catholic. “Here, let’s listen to the tape again.” 

“That won’t be necessary, Luke,” Bobby grunted. Luke didn’t listen and rewound the cassette Meg had given them before pressing play. 

“ _ You’re a dirty little girl, aren’t you? You’ll pay for that, for I hold the keys of perdition and of death.”  _

Bobby had to admit, it was pretty on the nose, and his gut told him that Father Milton  _ did  _ know who it was. 

“You know the voice, don’t you Father?” Luke insisted. 

“I cannot say,” Father Milton repeated for the tenth time that night. 

“What, you can tell Meg but you can’t tell the police?” Luke snarled. 

Luke was  _ wound up. _ Bobby wasn’t sure why, but he’s certain it’s because any time something obstructed justice, Luke got angry. Luke  _ hated  _ having cold cases. “C’mon, why can’t you tell me who it is?” 

“It’s against my faith,” Father Milton sighed heavily, as if Luke was a simpleton. 

“Yeah, well, you tell the members of the family of the women about to be murdered that your faith was more important than their lives,” Luke hissed. 

“That’s enough, Luke,” Bobby warned. “My apologies for the overzealous young man, Father, but aren’t there any reasons where you can tell us?” 

Father Milton shook his head. Luke scoffed. 

“All I want is a name!” he insisted. 

“Sorry,” Father Milton growled, “I can’t tell you that. Things that have been said in confession are for God’s ears only.” 

“Why don’t you come along with me when Meg’s murdered and I have to tell the family that,” Luke sneered. “Or tell ‘em yourself.” 

“That’s enough, Luke! Get out of here,” Bobby ordered. 

“Gladly,” Luke barked at his superior. He turned to leave. 

“Detective,” Father Milton called for him. Luke turned and looked back at him. “Faith is the cornerstone of the Church, and the Church grants people salvation and everlasting life, I truly believe that.” He looked up at Luke with dark green eyes and a furrowed brow. “Is there nothing that you believe in that strongly?” 

Luke stared back at Father Milton. 

 

_ He was standing in the same chapel he had met Jeanne in not several months ago. Jeanne was kneeling before the cross in full chain mail. Her hair had been cut short. He approached silently out of the shadows and settled up behind and to the side of her.  _

_ She rose and turned, nearly into him. “Lucifer,” she greeted softly.  _

_ “Well,” he hummed, looking her over. “You’re a very different person from the last time we met.” He smiled. “A heroine now!”  _

_ “A heretic, they say,” Jeanne returned.  _

_ “Well, they do have a point,” Lucifer hummed. “After all, why would God reveal Himself to a farmer’s daughter?” He circled her, slowly. _

_ “Why did he send His Son to us as a carpenter?” she shot back. Her wits were still about her. Good.   _

_ “And so you’ll die a martyr,” Lucifer hummed. “I’m sure that’ll please you very much.” His voice dripped with sarcasm and mild contempt. He never understood the point of martyrdom.  _

_ “What would please me very much is to be back in Doremy with my family,” she said, turning to look to him.  _

_ “So you _ are  _ afraid of dying,” Lucifer hummed almost gleefully.  _

_ Jeanne looked away, unable to deny it.  _

_ “Life isn’t so  _ everlasting  _ now, is it?” He pressed, seeing his advantage. He heard her heart beating. “I can give it to you,” he implored. She looked at him as his voice dropped down to more of a growl. “A life that never ends. A power beyond your imagination.” He leaned in to kiss her.  _

_ “Don’t.”  _

_ Lucifer withdrew with a scoff, respecting her wishes but not understanding  _ why  _ she was doing any of this. “Why throw your life away for the Church? For some pious old men who lied to you?” He was bitter. It reminded him too much of the Crusades. “How can you do that?”  _

_ “If my death is necessary to keep the Church strong, so be it,” Jeanne insisted. “I will live on in the hereafter.”  _

_ “How can you be so sure that your God will be waiting for you on the other side?” Lucifer asked.  _

_ “Faith. Pure, simple faith.” She turned to withdraw a simple wooden cross bound with leather to hand to him. “Take this to remember me by. That the faith you have lost will always be there to regain.” She brought it closer to him and he grabbed her wrist, squeezing. She seemed to understand and when he released her, slowly kneeled to set the cross down in front of the crucifix, never taking her eyes off of him, before walking away.  _

_ He waited for the sound of chainmail to disappear before removing himself from his perch and stared down at the simple cross. He kneeled down, almost shielding himself with his cloak before gently picking it up.  _

_ Even if he didn’t believe in her God, he believed in her and was in awe of her courage and steadfast determination- _

 

“I can’t say as that I do, Father,” Luke admitted, jerking himself out of the flashback. He left Bobby’s office and sat down outside, holding his head in his hands.  _ I need a drink, _ he thought.  

“Detective Knight, I’ve been looking all over for you,” Meg said, approaching him. “Are you okay?” 

“What?” he asked as he stood. 

“What do you mean, ‘what’, I saw you get shot,” she reminded him. 

Oh. That’s right. The wound had healed already and he just smiled. “Oh, it was nothing, just a graze,” he assured her. “I’ll be alright, thank you for asking.” 

She nodded and looked down at her fingers. “Listen I’ve been thinking,” she said, “you and me, we could set up a sting, I could wait-” 

Luke held up his hand. He certainly wasn’t going to authorize a sting without Bobby’s permission and he  _ certainly  _ wasn’t going to set up a sting with Meg, not with the way this killer operated. “Meg, leave it to us, okay? We’ll take care of it.” He patted her hand and gave her a reassuring smile before stretching and starting to walk. 

“Hey! Detective, you ain’t gonna catch this guy without me,” Meg insisted. 

“Well, we’ll try,” Luke said. He continued to walk. 

“ _ Thank you,  _ for your help,” Meg called after him, voice dripping in sarcasm. 

Bobby and Father Milton approached Meg and Father Milton rested a hand on Meg’s shoulder. She jumped and looked at the priest. “Father Milton, what are you doing here?” she asked as Father Milton started to walk with her after Luke. 

“Go home, go home, lock your doors and don’t leave,” Father Milton said. “Until this is over.” 

“No, no, I want to help!” She looked back at the captain, who was talking to Luke. 

Bobby looked at Luke. “Can ya set Miss Masters up with a uniform to take her to pick up her stuff and get ‘er to a hotel withou’ bein’ an idjit?” he asked. 

Luke nodded. “Yes, Captain.” He beckoned Meg to follow him and she did as Bobby walked over to Father Milton and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, leading him in the opposite direction. 

“I want you to stay away from the Church, Father,” Bobby said. “The killer may be after you too.” 

“I-I can’t do that!” Father Milton stammered, looking at Bobby. 

“You gotta, son,” Bobby said gravely. “For your safety an’ Meg’s.”  


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Luke share some time in Luke's apartment

Sam slowly opened the small wooden box that Luke had brought him and gasped at the simple wooden cross, bound together with leather, inside. “Oh, this is beautiful,” he said as he pulled it out, looking at Luke, who was standing by the window. “And very old,” he added. 

“ _ Oui, c'était Jeanne d’Arc’s,”  _ Luke said with a soft, wistful smile. Sam loved it when his vampire spoke French. It was calming, soothing even. Lilting and spoken with an entirely different accent than the Quebecois accent he was accustomed to hearing. There was age within the language when Luke spoke. 

“You’re  _ joking, _ ” Sam breathed, looking at the cross again. 

“ _ Non, _ ” Luke said with a chuckle. 

“ _ The  _ Joan of Arc. . .” Sam marveled. “You actually met  _ the  _ Joan of Arc?” 

“Yes,” Luke smiled. “I wanted to bring her over but she wouldn’t allow it. She had this incredible courage, fearless of anything.” 

“Faith,” Sam said with a smile. 

“Yeah, I guess,” Luke said, shoving his hands into his pockets as he turned from the window and faced Sam. “Bring it closer,” he asked. “ _ S’il te plait. _ ” 

Sam held up the cross and brought it a little closer, pausing when Luke flinched and looked away. “Why does the cross bother you?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“Because it represents the One True Light, and we are creatures of the dark,” Luke growled. It was annoying him so Sam went to set it aside. “ _ Non,  _ closer,” he asked. Normally, he’d be grateful for Sam’s intuition and respect of his boundaries, but not now. Not while there was a killer on the loose. 

Sam moved closer, until Luke stopped his hand and held it in place, staring at it. The vampire looked ready to bolt. 

“Why are you tackling this now?” Sam asked gently. 

“Because I’m spending tomorrow in a church,” Luke grunted. His eyes seemed to glow. “I want to catch this sonofabitch.” 

Sam set the cross down and cupped Luke’s face in his, directing his attention away from the cross that once belonged to one of the most historic women in Christian history. “Hey,” he said. “You’ll catch him. If anyone can catch him, it’s you. How many unsolveds do you have on your desk?” 

“One,” Luke admitted. 

“And that’s why I have faith. Detectives would  _ kill  _ to have a unsolved streak like you.” Sam smiled and kissed Luke softly. “You’ll call me when you’re outside the church?”

“Will you be here, the morgue, or your place?” Luke asked, wrapping his hands around Sam’s waist and tugging him in. His eyes were going into his vampiric glow for an entirely different reason now. 

“Here,” Sam breathed. “Fuck me, Lucifer. Make me not see or walk straight.” 

“Do you know what you’re asking for,  _ mortal _ ?” Luke growled softly, leaning in to scent Sam’s neck. “You’re asking to dance with the devil, little doctor.” 

He felt Sam shiver, his pulse quicken. “I know what to do if you try to go too far,” he breathed. “But I’d really like for you to fuck me.” 

Luke let out his fangs, letting them trail dangerously along Sam’s carotid as he kissed the skin. “And where would you like me to fuck you, little doctor?” he whispered, voice husky. 

“Right on the sofa,” Sam moaned. “Fuck me stupid, Lucifer.” 

The cross was forgotten as Lucifer proceeded to do exactly that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Oui, c'etait Jeanne d'Arc's"= Yes, it was Joan of Arc's. 
> 
> "S'il te plait." Informal way of saying please.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean, Luke, and other members of their unit stake out the church. Luke holing up in the confessional lets him sleep. . . and learn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT 11/2/2018: I have added @talkmagically's artwork to the end of the chapter!

“Make sure you drink plenty of water,” Luke said into the phone receiver, gazing up at the church from inside the phone booth. Thank his Maker that today was extremely overcast, he didn’t even really need his sunglasses today. It was still warm, he could still feel like he was burning, but luckily there wasn’t that much sun at 7 AM in April.

“I will,” Sam said tiredly over the phone. They had spent most of the night fucking like rabbits all over Luke’s apartment. Luke’s sexual vampire was satisfied but it also meant he didn’t drink any blood. Maybe a little from Sam, but not enough to truly sustain him.

“And eat something,” Luke implored. “You need your strength.”

“So do you, Dracula,” Sam teased softly with a weary laugh. “Don’t worry about me, Luke. I’ll be fine. You do what you need to do and I’ll see you later tonight.”

Luke smiled. “I love you,” he said. “Did I tell you that last night?”

“In not so many words, yes- Luke, did you really _have_ to grab my ass that hard?” Sam said in a voice filled with resignation.

“I don’t know my own strength, little doctor,” Luke grinned. “But the fact that my hand is bruised into your ass makes me happy.”

“Sadist,” Sam yawned playfully. “‘M sleeping more now.”

“Sleep well, love,” Luke said affectionately.

“Love you too, by the way.” Sam hung up and Luke smiled as he slid out of the phone booth, giving a nod to Dean as the other man slid into the booth to call Jo.

“Hi, Jo-” Dean was cut off by his wife. “I’m. . . I’m just calling to say that I love you, that’s all.”

More talking, Dean frowning in concern. Luke could vaguely hear Jo shouting over the phone. “Well, I know my timing could’ve been better, but-”

Even more talking, Dean’s frown in concern turning into him rolling his eyes in an exaggerated manner. “What, I can’t just call to say ‘I love you’ now? Alright, get some sleep.” He hung up and exited the booth, giving Luke a look that spoke of incredulity. “How many guys do you know would call their wife just to say I love you?” he asked. “She doesn’t know that she’s got a good thing goin’.”

“There’s an old Italian saying, Dean,” Luke said blandly with the hint of a smile. “‘When a man sends his wife flowers for no reason- there’s usually a reason.’”

“Well there’s another old Italian saying, and it’s ‘get out of my face!’” Dean sneered in response. “So what’s the game plan?”

“I want you to take three other plain clothes officers and setup at all entrances of the church,” Lucifer explained, staring once more at the church.

“And where are you going to be?” Dean asked in confusion.

“Inside,” Luke said as he headed across the street and into the church.

He was fine. He could do this. This was easy. A lot of people go to church.

The church was empty when he entered it, and he made the mistake of looking up into the stained glass windows.

_The sun. It burns._

He hissed at the sudden light- it was overcast _literally_ thirty seconds ago, what the fuck nature?- before he, stumbling, made his way to the candlelit altar-

 

_Jeanne was at the stake, he could see her through the bars of the prison and the flames already licking around her. That beautiful dark hair had been shaved, but she still shone with an ethereal beauty. He watched on as she burned, was given a heretic’s punishment._

_Even if he had given her eternal life, she still would have died. Fire is still a way to kill a vampire._

_Their eyes met._

_“Do not mourn for me, Lucifer,” she told him, bravely. “I will live on.”_

_She hissed, and Lucifer winced in sympathy. He clung to the bars tighter. He wished he could save her._

_“Hold up my cross,” she asked him, imploringly. “It will give me courage.”_

_He turned to look at the simple wooden cross that was hanging on the wall of the cell he and Jeanne had shared. He turned back to her and gave a slight shake of his head. He couldn’t. He was afraid._

_She seemed to give an understanding nod before raising her head up to the sky, to the heavens, prayers falling from her lips._

_She had accepted her fate. Lucifer would slip away quietly, would take the cross that she cherished. He needed to, no matter how terrified of it he was. He_ needed _it to remember this young farmer’s daughter through whom God had spoken to, who had such faith. History would remember her. He was history-_

 

He made his way to the confessional, slamming the door shut and bringing his coat up and around him. It hid him from the sun and besides, everyone with ‘Catholic guilt’ confesses, right? And he had the feeling that this was how Father Milton realized who the killer was- and who his target was.

He closed his eyes and drifted off.

 

He was awoken a couple hours later to the sound of the elderly woman on the other side of the confessional saying “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”

Swearing mentally, he remained silent. He didn’t want to listen to this particular confession.

“Father? I know you’re in there,” she said in that reprimanding ‘grandmotherly’ tone. “I can see your profile.”

He gave a little snore, pretending he was asleep again.

He could hear the quiet giggle and it made him smile.

“How about, I say thirty Hail Marys,” she said, “And leave you to your nap?”

He snored again and nodded with a smile. Elderly women liked that were _awesome._

He could feel her give the sign of the cross before exiting the confessional.

 

It was another few hours before a surprising person made their way to the confessional.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” said Dean Smith. He smelled like cigarette smoke. It better not have been smoked in his car.  

Luke gave a smirk, giving a small swallow. “How long has it been since your last confession, my son?” he asked, making his voice affect a thick, Italian accent, giving a smokier quality to his timbre.

“Oh it’s been years, Padre,” Dean said, “And I know I haven’t been that great on it. I’m Irish-Italian, you _can’t_ get more Catholic than that!” He inhaled, and Luke had to restrain himself from giggling. “But last night I. . . I did something real bad.”

Luke got more comfortable. This was going to be good. “You may speak freely, my son,” he said, still in that smokey Italian accent.

“Well, you see, my partner. . .” he sighed. “He’s a good guy but he frequents this place and he’s always had me stand outside of it. And recently I wanted to check it out, ‘cause he was takin’ his sweet time coming out and you would not _believe_ what was in this place! I mean, you can just use your imagination!”

Aaahhh, Dean went back to the Raven. He inhaled deeply.

“And he told me he didn’t want me in there but _man,_ Father. I’ve always been a tempted man. And so, last night, I went back.”

“Why did you go back there?” Luke purred through the partition.

“Well, there was this woman, and she was _gorgeous_. I think her name was like Lilith or Lily or something like that.”

“It’s Lilith,” Luke murmured.

“Right! And she was. . . oh man. She was a bunch of tens. And I’m a family man, Padre. I love my wife, deeply. But there was something. . . . so I went back last night for her.”

“With _lust_ in your heart,” Luke encouraged. Oh this was _good._ This was very good. He couldn’t help himself, this was _gold._ He’d be teasing Dean about this for years to come.

“ _Why did I do it?_ ” Dean hissed. “I mean, I’ve been married for ten years, Father. And maybe when I was a younger man I woulda done this, but nowadays I’m not the kind of guy to. . . to uh. . .”

“Fool around?” Luke suggested.

“ _Exactly!_ You took the words right outta my mouth, Padre. What in the _he-_ fuck. Can’t say-” Dean struggled for a few minutes to not swear, which amused to Lucifer to no end. “What was I trying to prove? And the woman- Lillian-”

“Lilith,” Luke corrected. How had this confession gone on for so long without Dean noticing that HE was the priest? Sometimes he wondered how Dean got promoted to detective.

“Right, Lilith. Anyways, she was coming onto me like I was Patrick Swayze to the _tenth,_ you know? Like I was some kind of Greek. . .”

There was a pause, and Luke turned to look at Dean through the partition.

“God,” Dean breathed. He got up and rounded the confessional to yank open the door to Luke’s side.

 _There we go._ “Number one,” Luke said, still in the thick Italian accent, “I told you to never go in there. Number two, you’re supposed to be covering this place from the outside.”

“You _little son of a -”_

Luke silenced him by pressing a finger to his lips before Dean realized he was about to swear in church. . . again. “Twenty Hail Mary’s, promise me you’ll never go there again.”

It was a very close thing, but Dean managed to not slam the door of the confessional on Luke. Chuckling to himself, Luke curled up in his coat and closed his eyes, going into his memories and daydreaming about the night before with Sam. The way Sam vibrated under his touch, the way his hair was slicked into his skin from the sweat of exertion, the breathy moans of his name. . . He wished he didn’t heal so fast, knowing that Sam clawed his back while Luke loomed over him, pistoning his hips faster and faster, driving them both to release.

Deliciously sinful thoughts in the church, and the vampire within purred as it remembered the small amount of blood Sam had given him. It was the best tasting blood he’s had in 800 years. . .


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meg sneaks out, Luke faints, and Dean gets knocked out

“It’s hard to believe that a maniac is out there who wants to kill me,” Meg said as she picked up a card out of the deck. Frowning at her hand, she selected a card to discard.

“Yeah, it’s crazy,” the police officer said- Garth, his name is. Garth Fitzgerald IV, but just ‘Garth’ was fine, he had told her. “Don’t know why that is, but there seems to be more of that lately. We’ve had so many crazy cases the past couple of years.” He played his hand. 

“Really?” Meg said with a smile. “So, tell me, Garth- is Detective Knight single?” 

“Luke?” Garth laughed. “Nah, he’s not. He’s been dating Dr. Winchester, our ME, for the past couple years. They’re smitten with each other.”

“Oh? She must be pretty,” Meg said.

“Dr. Winchester’s not. . .” Garth hesitated.

Meg stared at Garth. “You mean he’s. . .” 

“I don’t know exactly  _ what  _ Luke is, or Sam,” Garth admitted with a shrug. “They keep it on the DL, don’t let it interfere with work.” 

“Do they look good together? You know couples last longer if they compliment each other through looks,” Meg said. 

“Very good together,” Garth said. “Sam’s even taller than Luke or Detective Smith. Shaggy dark brown hair, kind hazel eyes. Giant hands.” 

Meg smiled. “Good.” She played another hand. “What about you?” She asked. 

“Me?” Garth squeaked. “Oh, no. No one’s looked twice at me,” he gave a half shrug. 

“Really?” Meg asked. 

“Yeah, the uniform doesn’t help too much. And. . .” Garth grinned at her before setting down his cards. Three aces stared up at Meg. “Gin.” 

“Damn,” Meg laughed as she set her own cards down. “Thanks for the pizza and the cards,” she said as Garth started clearing the bed. She stood up from the bed and stretched. “I’m going to shower,” she said, “Get some of the grime from yesterday off.” 

“I should probably wait outside then,” Garth said. 

“No, it’s fine,” Meg said, walking over to Garth. She rested her arms on Garth’s shoulders. “Want to come scrub my back?” 

“I’m on duty, Meg,” Garth murmured lowly. “Otherwise I would.” 

Meg smiled and leaned up to kiss Garth. “When are you  _ off  _ duty?” she asked. 

“In about,” Garth checked his watch. “Four hours.” 

“Come back?” she asked. 

“You want me to?” Garth asked. 

Meg smiled. “I don’t ask for just  _ anyone  _ to come scrub my back,” she teased. 

“Right.” Garth smiled. “I’d like to come back.” 

Meg smiled and leaned up to kiss him, feeling the sparse whiskers tickle her chin. “I’ll let you know when I’m out,” she murmured against soft lips. “And then maybe we can play something romantic, like hearts.” 

“Sounds good,” Garth hummed. He kissed her forehead before slowly withdrawing from her embrace and going to stand outside her door. 

Meg waited until Garth was standing outside her door. Silently, she walked over and slipped the deadbolt into place before walking into the bathroom. She closed the door and locked that too. She then walked over to the window in the bathroom and slipped it open. Luckily, they were in a room on the first floor, so she didn’t have far to jump. Tightening her scarf around her neck, she started walking briskly towards St John’s.

She needed some place familiar, someplace safe, and St. John’s was it. She needed to pray, pray for forgiveness, not just for her, but for the poor man who wanted to kill her. 

She felt bad for leaving Garth behind, but she’ll make it up to him. She’s sure of that. 

 

It was eight at night when Luke stumbled out of the confessional. He should’ve drank, he needed to drink. Except for the tiny bit of Sam’s blood he had while they were fucking, he’d been blood-free this entire case. And between the sun earlier today that appeared out of nowhere and being in the church, he could feel himself weaken. 

He felt someone approach from behind and he internally groaned, knowing who it was almost immediately. 

“ _ DETECTIVE KNIGHT _ !” Father Michael Milton shouted into the quiet of the sanctuary. “WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT TO  _ VIOLATE _ THE SANCTITY OF THE CONFESSION?!”

Luke steadied himself on a pew. “We’re trying to catch a killer, Father,” he said. “Unfortunately, that sometimes calls for unorthodox methods.” He turned and looked at Father Milton. “The Lord helps those who. . . well, you know. Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.” His head was pounding. “Besides, I’m fairly certain Captain Singer told you to stay away from here.” He started to move away, maybe go find some place where he could sleep. Find a rat that he could drink blood from. Something. He hated being on the vampiric version of Slim Fast.  _ Dammit Julian. Dammit Sam.  _

However, before he could even reach a door, Father Milton grabbed his upper arm and dragged him away, closer to the altar. 

“Now, I don’t  _ expect  _ you to understand, because you  _ clearly  _ don’t care,” Father Milton lectured. Oh goodie. A lecture. This was starting to sound like the beginning of a bad joke.  _ A priest began to lecture a vampire on the morality of guilt-  _ “But you have  _ no right  _ to trample over The Church!” 

Luke yanked his arm out of Father Milton’s grasp and fell into a chair. “Let  _ go  _ of me,” he growled, turning away. The vampire within was displeased, was ready to tear this holier than thou priest’s throat open. Let him meet his maker face to face, if there even  _ was  _ such a thing. 

“Look,” Father Milton huffed. Honest to Julian huffed. “We both want to stop this poor man, before he kills again.” 

Luke scoffed. “Poor man,” he sneered. “He completely mutilated  _ three  _ of your parishioners.” 

“He can be forgiven,” Father Milton said none too patiently. “We can all be forgiven.” 

Luke rolled his eyes, focusing on the confessional door. It had closed. 

“Even  _ you,  _ Detective, can have life everlasting,” Father Milton said, gently resting a hand on Luke’s shoulder. 

“I did,” Luke grunted. “And it’s brought me nothing but trouble.” He stood up and glared at the priest. Everything was fuzzy. Why was everything fuzzy?

“That can happen sometimes,” Father Milton said, this time without judgment. “Now, how about we break bread, and start over, as friends? How do you feel about. . . bratwurst and sauerkraut?”

Luke had really no opinion on the German food as he stared off, his vision still out of focus. He really does need to eat… Images of Jeanne at the stake, him in prison flashed through his mind the longer he stared at the bust of the saint behind Father Milton. 

He fainted. 

Father Milton caught him before he even came close to hitting the ground. 

“Oh My.” 

Dean flicked the cigarette out of the Caddy’s window and sighed. He got word that Luke had fainted. Probably from not eating. How he’s managed to live this long without constantly eating is beyond him.

He picked up the radio and radioed into the church. “Hey, is Knight okay?” he asked. 

“I’m alive and well, Dean,” Luke’s voice said almost soothingly. Like he was soothing a horse. There seemed to be a mischievous lilt to it, however. “I think your confession made me sick.” 

Dean growled. “Hey, that is NOT for the public, I don’t want you contacting Reuters or the Associated Press.” He paused. “Didn’t I hear somethin’ about brats and kraut?” 

“I’ll send a plate out for you,” Luke promised.

“Well, ain’t that nice of ya,” Dean snipped. “C’mon, Luke. He ain’t gonna show. I’m cold, and I’m wet.” 

“An hour longer,” Luke promised. “Then we’ll try again tomorrow.” 

“Tomorrow, I’m in the church,” Dean grumbled as he nearly slammed the radio on the dashboard. He remembered the  _ last  _ time he injured Luke’s car. Luke nearly murdered him. They probably would’ve never found his body if he did. Luke could be scary sometimes. 

He checked his watch and sighed. “Oh well, over time makes the wife happy,” he said. 

He listened to the idle chatter of the police radio as his eyes scanned the grounds of the church where he was stationed. It was dead. There was someone walking across the grounds. He leaned out of the car window a little bit to see who it was. 

It was Meg Masters. 

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered as he reached for the police radio to notify Luke that somehow, Meg slipped her detail. He didn’t pay any attention to the figure in black appearing in the side mirror. 

He never saw the elbow to the temporal lobe coming. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Killer has Meg and finally the cops find out that Meg's there

Meg walked into the church and found her usual pew. Sitting down, she pulled out the kneeler. She kneeled down and folded her hands neatly and looked around. 

There was only one other person in the sacristy with her. She didn’t know where Father Milton was, but he was around. She knew that even with police orders, he wouldn’t stay away. 

She turned to look at the man who sat a few pews across from her and returned her eyes to the front. Pausing, she sensed that something wasn’t quite right. Slowly, she turned her head to face him. 

The man was dressed in all black, his hair slicked back. He looked like a modern day assassin, if Meg was honest with herself. As if sensing her eyes on him, he slowly turned his head to look at her. A sinister look stole over his face and took root in sickly yellow eyes, the color of brimstone. 

She screamed. 

 

“Hey, Dean!” Samandriel “Alfie” Croix said cheerfully as he walked over to where Dean was sitting in Luke’s Caddy. “Dean! I got those bratwursts and sauerkraut for you!” 

As he got up next to the car, concerned that Dean wasn’t answering (Dean never did NOT answer when presented with food), he gasped. He saw that Dean was out cold and he unceremoniously threw the plate of food on top of the Caddy before opening the door to shake Dean’s shoulder before grabbing the radio. 

Dean groaned as Samandriel spoke into the radio. “10-13, 10-13, Officer down!” he said. “Dean, are you okay?” 

“Meg,” he groaned. “Meg’s inside.” 

Samandriel grimaced and relayed the information over the radio as officers came running to the Cadillac. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke saves Meg

Meg was  _ entirely  _ uncooperative as the man she knew as Azazel Fredericks dragged her out to the Easter Pageant cross to tie her against it. She screamed for help, even beyond the makeshift gag and struggled as he threw her against the cross and tied her hands behind it. He then tied her body to it, tightly, and she screamed again. 

She wasn’t going to die like this. She couldn’t die like this. Unless this was God’s will, truly. 

Somehow, she doubted that. 

_ God,  _ she prayed even as she screamed for help,  _ send someone to deliver me unless my death is Your will. In Jesus’ name, Amen.  _

 

Luke and four other officers burst into the church, guns drawn. “MEG?” Luke called as he scanned the area, sniffed slightly. Listened for the sound of Meg’s pulse. 

Nothing except the four officers who had come in with him. 

He looked at them as he picked up Meg’s scarf. He nodded. “Seal the exits,” he commanded. “I’m going outside!” 

They responded and he ran outside.  

He could smell gasoline, feel the killer’s steady pulse as he hurried. Could taste Meg’s fear on his tongue as though it was her blood on his lips. He could hear her muffled screaming. He stowed his gun away and levitated. 

 

Meg looked on in fear as she watched Azazel pour gasoline all over a large pile of twigs and sticks at the base of the stage where the cross was. She kept praying and hoping someone could come rescue her. 

Azazel picked up a thick, gasoline soaked stick and her eyes widened as he flicked open a Zippo lighter, letting it catch flame. He looked up at her with putrid, vile hatred for her searing in the sulphur orbs. 

“ _ Burn in Hell, whore. _ ” 

Suddenly, as if summoned, she saw Detective Knight come out of  _ nowhere _ and tackled Azazel. The burning stick was cast aside as the two rolled onto the ground with grunts. She was breathing heavily, almost hyperventilating as she watched Azazel stand up and regain control of the blazing stick. He started to use it to jab at Detective Knight, who danced around it with a hard look in his eyes. 

Almost a familiar look, like he’s seen this before. 

Azazel lunged with the fiery branch and Detective Knight expertly stepped out of the way, locked his arm, and punched Azazel solidly. 

She screamed as her would-be murderer was knocked out cold. He fell into the soaked twigs, and they caught on fire. The blaze spread quickly and she tried harder to get out of her ties. The ones around her body were much looser, but the ones around her wrists were as hard as ever. 

 

Luke stood up, wiping his mouth, only to see a very familiar sight in front of him. This sight had haunted his sleep the entirety of the case. Only instead of a martyr, of a woman who had so much faith in her own version of immortality, it was a woman who had no inclination of dying in this way. 

As he watched, calculating, hearing Meg’s cries, his mind raced through those images. -

-“ _ What is your name?”  _

_ “Jeanne”-  _

-The sounds echoed in his head, the fire climbing higher and higher, Meg’s distress getting more and more palpable-

_ -“Hold up my cross, it will give me courage.” He’s not at Jeanne’s murder- for that’s what it was, murder- but reaching towards the cross after she had left- _

-An image of Jeanne, shaved and beaten, being engulfed in flames as he observed the debris beneath the stage, his mind racing. Meg looked terrified and rightly so. She didn’t choose this. But how was he going to save- 

_ -“Faith, pure simple faith.” - _

-Ahhh, yes, Jeanne’s faith. That’s why she wasn’t afraid of the fire. Newer visions emerged-

_ -Seeing the cross burned into his skin. Meg’s face. Looking up at the church outside earlier that morning, remembering his mortal life, when such a sight used to give him courage. And Jeanne’s voice, overlapping it all- _

_ “Remember that the faith you have lost is always there to regain.”  _

Hearing that gave him the motivation. Faith was meant to be regained. It didn’t necessarily mean the “church” faith, didn’t mean religious faith. 

_ Sam has faith in you. Have faith in yourself.  _

He leaped over the flames, using his vampiric abilities once more and letting out a cry he hadn’t used since the Crusades. He freed Meg and she gasped and took in a large lungful of air as he untied her wrists and the rest of her bindings. 

“Do you trust me?” he asked. 

She nodded, clinging to him. 

He removed his jacket and put it over Meg’s head, tucking her under his arm. “Hold on!” he commanded. 

With faith in himself, he jumped again, over the ever climbing flames and they rolled onto the grass less than gracefully. But still, they were alive. And safe. 

“Are you okay?” he asked her. 

Meg nodded in response to his question. “How- How’d you do that?” she gasped as he removed the coat from her head. She sounded awed. 

“A little bit of adrenaline,” Luke panted. “And a whole lot of faith.” 

They looked up and watched the flames burn and Luke gave a half smile to himself as he watched. 

_ Merci, Jeanne,  _ he thought. Prayed may have been a better word.  _ Merci beaucoup. Tu avais raison tout le long. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tu avais raison tout le long- You were right all along. (roughly)


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath

I mean, I’ve seen him before in church,” Meg explained to Luke as they exited Captain Singer’s office. “The poor soul.” 

“You  _ actually  _ feel sorry for this man?” Luke asked incredulously.

Meg gave Luke a little half shrug as Father Milton came out from behind them, adjusting his coat. “She who forgives little, loves little,” she said. She turned her attention to Father Milton. “I just wanted to let you know, Father, that despite my line of work- which I won’t be giving up any time soon- that I  _ do  _ listen to you.” 

Father Milton chuckled and nodded. 

“You’re the best priest we’ve had in a long time,” she continued. She smirked. “Best looking, too,” she added. 

Father Milton gave a startled flush and Luke snickered before Meg turned her attention back to him and kissed his cheek. 

“Thank you for saving my life,” she said. 

“Of course, all in a day’s work,” he said as he started escorting her towards the front doors. She stopped, turned, and handed Luke her cross.

“Oh, I couldn’t,” Luke said, holding up his hands in protest. 

“Please,” she said. “I want you to have it.” She took his hand and placed it in his, making it obvious that she wouldn’t take no for answer. 

Smiling, Luke closed his hand around the cross. “Thank you,” he said. It burned a little bit, but not as badly as it had the Night of the Garlic Pill Whirlwind. It was more like a tingle. She cupped his cheek, smiled, and left. 

Luke watched her meet up with Garth, where the skinny cop was obviously chastising her in a more than friendly way, before turning to Father Milton. 

“I was wrong,” he said. 

“If I could’ve helped-” Father Milton said. 

Luke sat down on a desk jockey’s desk. His own was too far away. “I understand now that you couldn’t betray your faith,” he said. “I finally understand that now.” 

Father Milton gave a warm smile and clapped Luke on the shoulder. “You should come to services some time. Confession is  _ good  _ for the soul.” 

Ooooohhhhhh, how many times has ‘Catholic guilt’ come for Luke’s non-existent soul, both when he was mortal and after he crossed over? More times than he could count. He knew that much. And maybe, when he is human again, when he is once more able to wholly believe in the power of God and Christ he will. But for now- “You know,” he chuckled, nodding over to where Sam was busy pestering Dean about his head injury and smirking. “I think my partner confesses enough for the both of us.” He got up and started walking over that way. 

“Oh  _ stop  _ being such a baby!” Sam chided Dean. “And what’s with this ring around the collar?” 

“Oh what, are you attacking my hygiene now?” Dean scoffed as he walked to the desk and Sam walked over. He was wearing a dark green, black, and grey plaid shirt and blue jeans with the white lab coat thrown over and Luke wished he could take his boyfriend right then and there. 

“I think that’s your conscience, Dean,” Luke chuckled. 

“Bite. Me.” Dean sneered. 

Sam rolled his eyes and looked at Luke. Luke merely opened his hand to show him the cross within. 

“You’re able to hold it!” He said quietly, but with excitement in his voice. 

“It hurts,” Luke admitted. “But not as badly. Who knows, maybe I’m one step closer.” 

Sam raised a brow. “To God or to mortality?” he asked. 

Luke chuckled. “Maybe both,” he said. 

“Hey, guys, I’m starving,” Dean said. Luke and Sam chuckled to themselves. “Want to grab a bite to eat?” 

“No thanks, Dean,” Luke said, staring out the window. It was getting close to sunrise. “It’s almost sunrise.” He slipped on his sunglasses. 

“I’ll walk with you to your car, Detective Knight,” Sam said. 

“Thank you, Dr. Winchester,” Luke said, remaining professional. While he and Sam dating was an open secret within the station, they kept it on the downlow, as homosexuality wasn’t widely accepted and they had both promised to keep their professional lives separate from their personal ones. 

They walked to Luke’s Caddy and he hissed as he smelled cigarette smoke. “Dean,” he growled, his inner vampire coming forth. 

“I’ll make him watch an autopsy?” Sam suggested. 

“It’s okay, I’ll just remind him that I will murder him,” Luke said offhandedly, grinning as Sam playfully cuffed him before his pager went off. 

He checked it and groaned. “I’ll see you in about eight hours, I just had a floater land on my table- the day shift will handle this,” Sam said sternly as Luke was ready to head back inside. “It might be a suicide. I’ll let you know.” 

“Sounds good,” Luke said. “And you’ll come over after you’re done?” 

“Yes,” Sam hummed, wrapping his arms around Luke’s waist and tugging the slightly shorter man closer. “After all, I think you deserve a treat for being that much closer.” 

Luke purred and growled softly. “You up to it so soon, little doctor? You were worn out from the night before,” he reminded Sam. 

“I’ll take my chances,” Sam hummed, leaning down to kiss Luke gently, pressing his finger against Luke’s lips as Luke tried to deepen the kiss. “You will behave,” he said. “I’ll be there after I do this floater.” 

Luke gave Sam a vampiric growl and saw the human shudder. “ _ Later, _ ” the medical examiner warned. “Now kiss me and tell me you’ll get checked out for smoke inhalation.” There was a twinkle to Sam’s eye, with both of them knowing that Luke wouldn’t be able to.

“I’ll make sure there’s no lasting damage to my lungs,” Luke promised playfully, kissing Sam sweetly. “Go dissect the floater. I’ll see you when you’re done.” 

Sam smiled warmly into the kiss and patted Luke on the rear before heading off. 

Luke watched Sam walk away, eyes fixated on his ass. He reigned in the vampire within, got into the Caddy, and began driving home. 

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Lucifer have fun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND HERE LIES THE SMUT. AND THE END
> 
> Thank you for reading! This was a lot of fun :D 
> 
> Check over at @talkmagically's blog for some pretty sweet art

“Did you do your check up for smoke inhalation?” Sam teased as he walked into Luke’s apartment. 

“Oh yes,” Luke laughed as he entered the living room. “And all the nurses and doctors were very confused as to why I don’t have a pulse.” He wrapped his arms around Sam and kissed his nose. 

“You had blood,” Sam said, wrinkling his nose. 

“Yes, well, as much as I’ve tried to eat mortal food- and I did eat some bratwurst at the church, for politeness sake- I still need blood to survive,” Luke said. “I  _ fainted  _ today.” 

“I know, and I’m sorry,” Sam said, running his hands up and down Luke’s chest. 

“I could’ve died today because I was fasting,” Luke continued to pout. 

“How much?” Sam asked. 

Luke squinted in thought. “Half a bottle,” he said. “I wasn’t feeling too particularly hungry. Oh, yes. Because the brats were a bit on the bloody side so it helped.”

“Good! I’m glad to hear that,” Sam grinned as he kissed Luke. He ground into the vampiric detective’s hips and Luke groaned. 

“So soon, little doctor?” he growled. “Are we really that eager?” 

“What can I say?” Sam laughed, his eyes dancing. “I’m dancing with the devil. I would like to cash in. Sign the black book and dance off with Satan for eternity.” 

“ _ Now  _ you’re just making fun of my given name,” Luke growled, his eyes turning into slits and changing from blue to green as he smacked Sam’s ass. The medical examiner moaned and rocked his hips. 

“Maybe you should bite me for my impertinence,” Sam smiled wickedly and Luke snarled, leaning in to scent Sam’s neck. 

Sam moaned and ran his hands up Luke’s arms, clutching at his biceps. 

“I could end you with one bite right. . . here,” Luke intoned as he scraped his human teeth over where Sam’s carotid was hidden underneath skin and sinew. He could hear Sam’s heart, pumping faster but not in fear, in arousal. “I could drain you dry and leave you here. It’d take days for them to find you and by then, I wouldn’t even be here. I may not even be on this continent. I would be far, far away.” 

Sam shuddered in Luke’s arms and seemed to press his neck more towards the vampire. 

“And you don’t care, do you,  _ mortal? _ ” he breathed softly. “You don’t care that I could end your life so quickly, and it  _ excites  _ you.” 

“God,” Sam groaned as he rocked his hips. “Luke.” 

“So wanton, you’re begging for me, aren’t you, little doctor?” Luke purred. He raked the side of a fang alongside Sam’s neck. “You want me, don’t you?” 

“Yes,” Sam breathed. “Take me, Luke.” 

“Take you, hmm?” Luke chuckled as he nipped at Sam’s neck. “Take you how? And where? There are so many possibilities, little doctor. And you’re in  _ my  _ apartment. Not yours. There’s no Bones to save you. You’re not in the position to give orders, are you?” 

Sam moaned and rocked into him. “Luke, please,” he whispered. 

“Please what?” Luke mocked. “What are you begging for? Hmm?” 

Sam couldn’t really speak; just moaned Luke’s name again and it sent a thrill down Luke’s spine. Sam really did want it, really did want Luke to fuck him hard and fast. 

“Get undressed, Sam,” he ordered. 

Sam nodded and hurriedly began to get undressed while Luke watched, going to sit down in the armchair facing the projector wall in his home. He watched his lover hungrily, the vampire surging forth and his fangs came into full view just as Sam looked at him. The human swallowed in arousal. Sam wasn’t afraid of Luke, he trusted Luke. 

Maybe a dumb thing to do, to trust a vampire to have control over instinct and desire, but neither Luke nor Sam could bring themselves to care.

“Come here,” he further commanded, spreading his legs and undoing his jeans button. 

Sam came over just as Luke pulled his throbbing hard cock out of his jeans and Sam whined, naked and cold in the vampire’s lair. 

It excited them. 

“It’s not going to suck itself,” Luke mentioned almost too casually. 

Sam dropped to his knees in between the denim clad legs of his lover and took Luke into his mouth, groaning as he sucked. 

“Oh fuck,” Luke breathed, enjoying the wet warmth Sam’s mouth provided. He grabbed a fistful of chestnut curls and bucked his hips, causing the medical examiner to moan as the detective growled. His inner vampire begged to be set free, to pin this human to the ground, to turn Sam. 

But he reigned it in. He kept that part locked away, even though everything in his body implored him to do so. He wouldn’t have to wear kid gloves around Sam then. The two of them were creatures of the night anyways, it wouldn’t be that different. 

But he knew Sam would never go for it and besides, he wanted to be mortal. To grow old and die by Sam’s side. THAT was what he wanted. 

Sam moaned and sucked Luke and Luke looked down affectionately at Sam. “Think you’re ready for me to fuck your pretty little hole?” he cooed. “Want to be consumed by darkness?” 

Sam withdrew Luke’s cock with a loud  _ pop _ as he smirked up at Luke. “Drink your fill, I’m yours,” he purred. 

Growling, snarling, Luke hauled Sam onto his lap and latched onto Sam’s shoulder with his teeth and fangs, eyes glowing as he impaled Sam onto his cock. 

Sam screamed, his large, thick cock that had filled Luke up on a few occasions leaking precum down the mildly tanned length. 

Blood sprang almost immediately after Sam screamed, hitting Luke’s tongue and the vampire gave a low, pleased growl as he slowly began to drink, fucking up into Sam while the human above cried out loudly in pleasure. His fingers dug into Luke’s biceps, nails almost tearing into his shirt as they fucked. 

Luke lifted his head and gave a growl, blood covering his lips and teeth. Sam whined and bucked his hips. 

“Like that,  _ mortal _ ?” Luke growled. 

“God, YES!” Sam cried. 

“Cum for me, Sam,” he commanded. “Now!” 

Sam came, screaming his ecstasy to the ceiling and no doubt waking up half of Toronto. 

Luke continued fucking up into Sam, staring at his bloodied shoulder while Sam whimpered and whined. 

“Where shall I fuck my little doctor next?” he purred. 

 

Outside the warehouse apartments Luke lived in, a tall, thin, and pale man looked up. His ears and eyes were trained on the single light on in the entire building, on the top floor, the pleasured screams and the dark growls echoing in his head. The man did not look out of place on the streets of Toronto, but did not look like he belonged in the warehouse district. Not with the black suit and crisp white shirt, the cane he carried as an affectation tucked under his arm. 

“Oh, Lucifer,” he sighed, his voice sounding aged. “Whatever am I going to do with you, my son? Why do you continue to deny what you are?” 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr! @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell
> 
> Comments and Kudos Are Shiny!!


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